The Red Light
by Elise Elson
Summary: He isn't talking about the light in front of him; the colors were going to change we both knew that, but we never would.
1. Chapter 1

Hey, I'm not quote sure how I feel about this but here it is. I plan for it to have a few chapters if they is enough interest.

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Fi.

"They call, and you drop everything for them. You don't do that for anyone else; only them. You were supposed to be home for two months, not two days."

I can see his eyes as they try to focus on the stoplight and not my words. He breathes out. "I'm getting tired of this," He says his eyes never leaving the red light. He isn't talking about the light in front of him; the colors were going to change we both knew that, but we never would.

"Then maybe this is it." I answer my eyes locked on the red light. Tears are growing behind my eyes, but I fight them back.

"Maybe it is." He answers. He speeds through the intersection as soon as the light is green. The rest of or trip home is made in silence. Neither of us knowing what to say or what damage our words have already done.

He has his bag out on the bed seconds after we walk through the doorway. I feel the tears building behind my eyes, so I quickly make my way to the bathroom. I refuse to let him see me break. I strip out of my dress and heels. Stepping under the stream of water I sigh as the tears roll down my cheeks.

It was never going to change. I would always come second to the CIA. They call, and he goes running. It used to be enough to know that he would be coming home to me, but lately it just isn't anymore. I need more than two nights together every few weeks. It isn't fair to me, but when has our relationship ever been fair to me?

Michael.

I watch as she rushes into our bathroom. She's fighting back tears I know that, but what does she want from me? I have to go. It's my job.

"Damn it." I yell as I throw my bag across the room. She used to understand but lately we've drifted apart. I know it's my fault, but I can't just walk away from the CIA. I worked so hard to get back in; I can't just give it up.

I can't keep doing this. This back and forth is killing me…killing her. I can't keep fighting with her. I don't want to fight with her. I don't want her in that shower alone. I want to be in there with her, but I know that I can't walk in there. She doesn't want me in there.

Walking across the room I pick my bag up and continue sticking clothes inside it. I finish and listen as the water pounds against the tile of our shower. I push down the desire to rush in there and force her to talk to me; to work this out before I leave in the morning.

Sighing I walk over to our bed and lay on my side. Fifteen minutes later I hear the water turn off and pretend to be asleep. I can't talk to her, no matter how much I want to. She's so angry with me. She won't listen. She turns the lights off and I feel her slide into bed beside me. I fight the urge to pull her into my arms. She sniffles, and I lose it.

"I'm trying to give you everything you want Fi." I whisper. I reach my hand over, but she snatches away from me. "Fiona..."

"Some…sometimes you think you're giving a person the world, but you're not, "she whispers, "sometimes the world you're offering isn't what they want." I can hear every breath she takes. She's struggling to hold it together and it's absolutely killing me.

"What do you want Fiona?" My voice is so low that I'm unsure she heard me but finally I hear her tiny voice.

"I'm tired of coming second. I don't want to be your after thought anymore. I want to be the first thing you think of when you're offered something. I want you to care about how your decisions affect my life..."

I let out a sigh. We'd been over this so much. "I've always been upfront about what I want Fiona. I told you over…"

"You told me over and over that we wouldn't work. You told me that we shouldn't try, and you know what I think you were right. This was a mistake." Her tiny form is up and out of the bed before I can respond to her angry words.

I reach out towards her, but she pulls away. I watch as she manages to get dressed in thirty seconds. "Where are you going? Come back to bed."

"I can't be with you Michael. I need to be alone."

I stand from the bed and walk up behind her. Surprisingly she doesn't snatch away this time when my hand reaches her waist. "Fi…I…"

She turns in my arms and places her hand on my cheek. Her eyes have softened but I can see it. She's leaving. "I know Micheal. We're no good at this. We never have been." I feel her soft lips on my cheek and just as quickly they're gone and she's out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey! I'm so happy with the response I've gotten. You all are amazing and I'm so grateful for all the sweet words that filled your reviews. Thank you so much!

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I'm so tired of fighting. It's all that we do anymore; well it's all we do while he's home. I turn down road after road until a neon light catches my attention. The parking lot looks empty enough. I want solitude and to get drunk. I pull the door open and thank god that for once something is going right and the place is empty except for an old man behind the bar. Walking up to the bar a take a seat and the old man walks over. "What'll it be?" he asks. His voice catches me off guard momentarily and I jump. He raises his eyebrow and I sigh.

"Whatever you have on tap is fine." I answer once I find my voice. He nods his head and starts to pour my drink. "and a few shots of whiskey." A knowing look passes over his face; he's seen this before. Placing the shots down in front of me I quickly grab one and knocked it back, chase it with another before finally picking up my beer. I take a long gulp of it before I begin to speak, "Is this what I don't love you feels like? Is it getting left behind time and time?"

"He loves you Fiona." He replies. "You know he just doesn't express it the same way you do."

Sighing out I take the last shot of whiskey that he sat in front of me. "Hit me, Mike." He reaches over and pours me another shot. "Why are you here?"

"I needed a drink." I take another shot.

He laughs, "Well you came to the right place to drink my dear."

"I just want to be a priority and not an option."

I take a shot. He pours a shot.

"I'm tired of coming last."

I take a shot. He pours a shot.

"I want to be first."

I take a shot. He pours a shot.

"I just…just need to know I matter."

I hear the door jingle behind me and see Mike motion to whoever is coming in. They must be friends. Turning I watch as he walks through the door and towards me. Well I can kind of make out that it's him. My head is kind of dizzy and he's a little blurry. I know it's him though. I know from the way he walks and when he's right in front of me I can see it's him from the disappointment lining his face or is that irritation? I can't really tell the difference lately.

"Michael."

"Fiona."

"Why are you here?" I ask the fake annoyance sounds believable even to me. I reach out to take my last shot but his hand around my wrist stops me.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" His voice is low and full of something, but I can't tell what exactly. I snatch away from him and take my last shot.

"I can take care of myself."

"Come home Fiona." Desperation. That's what I hear.

"Home? Why? You'll be gone soon anyway."

"Fi." I can hear the pleading in his voice.

"Why?"

"Please. Let me take you home." I sigh and turn to face him again.

"Fine."

"Why are you doing this?" He asks staring at the red light we're sitting at. "Why are you fighting so hard."

"Why aren't you fighting harder?" I answer.

He takes a deep breath and his eyes slip closed for just a moment. He's exhausted and he's angry. He should be sleeping before he has to fly to god knows where for who knows how long. "Fi." It comes out in a whisper so low that if I hadn't been studying his face I would have missed it. "I'm no good at this."

"What are we doing Michael?"

"I thought we were living life together. What changed?"

"I think that's part of the problem. Nothing big changed but all the little things did, and they added up to big things."

"I love you."

"Is love really enough?"

"I can't leave my job Fiona. I know you know that."

"I know, but you leave me."

The car jerks through the light and for a moment the car is silent. "Do you think I enjoy leaving you?"

"I don't…I"

"Do you think I enjoy running off to God knows where and leaving you here?" The car jerks around a sharp corner and I slam into the door.

"Do you think I want to sleep alone every night?" He presses harder on the pedal, but I can't see how fast we're going; everything is too blurry.

"What are you do…" He cuts me off before I can finish.

"You think I choose to walk away from you when it feels like we're falling apart? You think I want us like this?"

"I don't know what you want anymore!" I yell as he pulls into an abandoned ally.

"I want you Fiona. Why can't you see that?" Now he's yelling.

"You don't constantly walk away from the people you love." I raise my voice to match his before I clumsily swing my door open and hop out the car.

"Get back in the car."

"I'm walking home."

"Fiona, you're drunk. Please get back in the car." I feel him walk up behind me and I have to fight not to turn into his arms. I need him.

"I know."

"Why? Why'd you go out and drink?" He asks his hand resting on my hip.

"I don't want to remember you leaving." I whisper before I turn and get back into the car leaving him standing in the alley.


End file.
